Literally it seems, we're walking through this forest of twenty foot high grey stick things. Apparently a kind of rooted animal (because you can see them moving and they have mouths in the leaf crown).
We're on our way to see someone who may have an answer, and something he's grown in a metal pot that, if I drink it, infused in bad wine, will either get me completely fucked or make me see expository visions. Castaneda would be envious I think - you get what you peyote for.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Say what you want to say, I'm watching you